


you think i don't wanna run to you

by collegefangirl3791, skywalking-across-the-galaxy (BadWolfGirl01)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Chip Arc, Domestic Fluff, Episode: S06e04 Orders, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, First Kiss, It's gonna be okay though, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Rex in an Apron, Rexsoka Week, Romantic Tension, SO MUCH FLUFF, cooking together, the authors regret nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 15:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collegefangirl3791/pseuds/collegefangirl3791, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfGirl01/pseuds/skywalking-across-the-galaxy
Summary: After Tup shot Master Tiplar, Rex stayed with him on Kamino instead of Fives. On the run after Palpatine tries to kill him, Rex does the only reasonable thing and goes to Ahsoka for help (neither of them are in love, obviously), getting perhaps a little more than he bargained for.(in which Rex wears an apron, Ahsoka can't handle it, and kissing the chef may or may not solve all your problems)





	you think i don't wanna run to you

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from "Rewrite the Stars," which is honestly such a top-tier Rexsoka song. Welcome to the center for fluff and mutual pining, ladies and gentlemen.

It’s so hard to focus. Typing out a coherent explanation takes far longer than it should, but Rex still manages it, at least. His thoughts are too heavy and mixed up, and he can’t entirely piece them together, although it feels like it might be getting better. He can hardly tell.

He just knows the gods-damned Chancellor just tried to kill him, and he has to get what he knows to somebody who’ll listen to him and help, but they’re saying he attacked Chancellor Palpatine, so he needs- needs-

Out. He needs to get off-world, out of the way, until he can think and put this all back together. He’s in no shape to outrun the Coruscant Guard.

So a ship, he needs a ship, needs help. He doesn’t know where his General is, can’t wait, he thinks, either way he just needs to not be where they can find him until he can karking  _ focus. _

He leaves his winged pauldron and kama and helmet, because he should, can’t think if there’s a better way to do this, doesn’t have civvies anyway and he won’t leave his blasters and he shouldn’t take his wristcomm, it’s standard issue but he needs it so he’ll have to risk that at least and maybe it’s not such a big risk, he doesn’t remember.

He’s grateful, later, for the years of training and instinct that help him get to a shipyard without being seen despite the mess in his head. If he had time he’d find Kix but he decided he wouldn’t look for Kix, he thinks because he didn’t- doesn’t- Right, no time for that and they’re on leave so Kix could be kriffing anywhere.

Gods kriffing damnit.

He’s not a pilot so he thinks he’ll just find a ship, give himself time to sort out whatever’s wrong with him. He can’t karking  _ fly  _ anywhere like this, he knows that. But he can still go among the ships, careful, find a light freighter that doesn’t look like it’s been flown for a while, crack open the control panel to get the thing’s loading ramp open. It looks tampered with; there’s no helping that. He was careful, he doesn’t think they can track him here right away anyway. So he closes the loading doors to the freighter, sits down against the side of the ship and rubs his forehead, swearing quietly to himself. Double-checks to make sure he has his evidence, the little slide with the tumor, the biochip, whatever the  _ hells  _ it is. He does, on his belt, and he leaves it there. That’s the important thing.

If he’d have found Kix he could have gotten his help with this but no time. So.

He could talk to General Skywalker. Could get his men to help. But he can't ask his men to help him implicate the Chancellor, and anyway he can’t go back into the middle of everything to find his General.

Since they all think he tried to shoot the Chancellor. Which he did. Because the Chancellor tried to get him shot first. He’s not so confused he doesn’t know what happened.

So he needs help and it can’t be here, can’t be from his men or, he guesses, his General, so. He shakes his head, controlling his breathing. Gods-damned longnecks. He could karking strangle them, see what they think of his  _ aggression. _ But that’s besides the point, and it’s distracting, so  _ focus. _

He could comm Ahsoka. The thought’s startlingly clear, although for a second he has difficulty remembering how he even knows the frequency to use. Because he gave her a commlink, when she left, he said she could call him but he has the frequency himself, so he can comm her and get help that way. He doesn’t know where she is, but he does know she’s not on Coruscant, and he also knows she’d listen to him.

He doesn't feel like he can go anywhere yet, but he remembers the frequency (of course he does, couldn't forget it if he  _ tried), _ so he tunes his wristcomm, taps out a signal before speaking, just in case. A couple pings, and if she answers, then…

Then he'll figure that part out. He can't tell her anything over  _ comm. _ Not secure, not good enough, and he knows he sure as hell can't explain well right now.

It is a little better, though. He can at least make it out of atmo soon, hopefully plot a course if it's not too complicated. This is why he isn't a kriffing  _ pilot. _

_ “Ahsoka here.” _

Rex sighs, relieved, and  _ gods  _ it's good to hear her, it's been a long time and somehow he'd expected- Well. He's not thinking straight anyway. “This is Captain Rex,” he says, trying his best to modulate his voice. He's tired, tired and his head's starting to ache. “I need your coordinates.”

_ “Rex?” _ She sounds surprised. Which makes sense, he supposes. Gods, he needed a better way to do this.  _ “What- no offense, but you sound awful.” _

“Yeah, I know,” he says, rubs his head again.

There's a slight pause, then Ahsoka gives him a list of coordinates. The Lothal system, if he's not mistaken. He shoves himself off the floor, which makes him dizzy for just a moment before he blinks and strides to the cockpit of the ship, increasingly frustrated at his own sluggishness. “Thanks, Commander,” he says, in acknowledgement, sits himself down and hits buttons until he can turn on the navicomputer and input the coordinates.

_ “What's wrong?” _ Ahsoka asks, and Rex swears under his breath.  _ “Why do you need to know where I am?” _

“That's kinda complicated, sir. I'm gonna- Was planning on coming for a visit, not really a sanctioned one.” He thinks he can get out of here, but if he has to do any quick thinking he's karking screwed.

_ “You should get rid of your comm then,”  _ she says, like he doesn't know that.  _ “Be safe, Rex.” _

“I know. Doing my best, sir.” He sighs, pulls his commlink off his bracer and snaps it in half. If he can just make it off Coruscant and get to Ahsoka, maybe he'll be okay. As long as he can get this gods-damned drug out of his system.

~~~

It's been three months since the battle on Cato Neimoidia. Since Anakin got commed about someone bombing the Temple. Since Barriss was revealed as the one behind it all.

Since Ahsoka Tano walked away from the Jedi Order, from everything she's ever known, from everyone she's ever loved.

Life on Lothal is a far cry from the peaceful routine and structure of the Temple, or the furious pace of life on board the _ Resolute, _ out fighting battles with her Master and her men, but there's a peace and a _ rightness _ to it all the same. She's been busy exploring the planet's strange connection to the Force, trying to unravel its mystery and maybe learn something new along the way. It's interesting work, searching for a way into the ancient Jedi temple she'd found, marking down locations that resonate strongly in the Force on her holomap of the planet.

In exchange for a few hours every day of work helping a local jeweler (it turns out she's very good at using the Force to shatter gems at just the right angles, removing flaws), she's been given the small but cozy apartment over the store and a small salary, which, combined with the stash of credits Anakin and her battalion had given her before she left, is enough to allow her to live fairly comfortably here. There's her work with the gems during the week, and on weekends, her explorations of Lothal, and meditation (which has become her primary source of learning, now - letting the Force itself guide and teach her), and building her new lightsabers (that alone took a solid month of searching just to find the crystals, and had been how she'd met Aryn, the jeweler, a red-skinned Twi'lek man with an uncommonly sharp eye) - suffice to say, she's got plenty to keep herself occupied.

She's in the local marketplace, around midafternoon, when Rex comms. The conversation, brief as it is, sends a bolt of fear stabbing through her, sharp and painful, but there's also bright  _ joy, _ eagerness, because of all her men she's missed Rex the most. His smile, so wry and smirking; his dry, sarcastic humor and sharp-edged wit; his golden eyes, so fierce and intense; his unfailing loyalty, his _ protectiveness, _ the way he's never doubted her, not once, even when she was just an untrained padawan with a penchant for disobeying orders and getting good men killed - these are the things she thinks of, when she allows herself to think about everyone she's left behind, everything she's lost. 

Like a chance with her Captain.

Or so she'd thought.

But maybe-

Ahsoka can't let herself think about that, right now, can't  _ hope, _ because she knows better than to think that Rex would come to her just for a social call. No, his sense of duty and honor is too strong to leave his men or his General behind, and that combined with the raw exhaustion in his voice and the jumbled feel of his words themselves tells her something is very, very wrong.

She's in a daze the rest of her time shopping, has to force herself to fall back on old battle-hardened habits of compartmentalization to make it back to her apartment, put away her food, check her wrist chrono and pace away the hours. From Coruscant to Lothal is a few hours in hyperspace, Rex won't be making it to the local spaceport for a while yet - but now that she knows he's coming, she can't seem to stay still, there's too much nervous energy balling up in her throat. So she paces, from the single bedroom to the small kitchen to the living room with the couch and the TV she never uses (because she uses her datapad, mostly, slips through a backdoor route into the system and reads Anakin's mission logs, and Obi-Wan's, and sometimes Rex's, too, if she misses him too much to be content with the fragile comfort of memory) and back to the bedroom, again and again and again.

She's always _ hated _ not knowing what's going on, and that's only exacerbated by it being _ Rex _ in question.

Finally, it's been long enough that she decides _ kriff this _ and leaves, makes her way to the spaceport and finds a terminal she can get on the Net from, watches the incoming traffic list until it pops up, the Force humming purposefully around it:  _ incoming freighter, cargo - 1 sentient, requesting clearance to land; clearance granted, Docking Bay 12. _

She smiles to herself, logs off the terminal and makes her way to Docking Bay Twelve, pushes through the doors and watches as the small freighter powers down, the ramp opening, and then-

_ Rex. _

He looks _ awful, _ she notices, exhausted and shrunken, his head shaved and a bandage on one temple, missing his kama and helmet and winged command pauldron, but in the moment all that's secondary to this- his _ presence, _ a bright flame in the Force (though wavering more than ever before), and she doesn't think, just crosses the distance between them in the space between heartbeats, flings her arms around him, heedless of his armor, presses her face into the side of his neck, just breathes in the _ feel _ of him, solid and real and _ here _ beneath her cheek.

She pulls back, after a moment, suddenly aware of the-  _ familiarity _ of the hug, pretends she wasn't entirely overstepping her bounds by pulling back and putting her hands on his shoulders, inspecting his face closer. “Rex, you look- what _ happened, _ why are you here?”

If she hadn't guessed him to be in trouble before, his appearance certainly confirms that _ now _ \- haggard, weary, his eyes darkened and shattered, like a man who has had the very foundations of his world turned upside-down and broken like so much scree and rubble.

Something is very, very wrong.

~~~

Rex can think again by the time he carefully, if clumsily, docks his ship on Lothal and unclenches his hands from around the controls. His headache has grown into a migraine, pressure behind his eyes, distracting, but not as bad as the drugs had been. He powers down the ship’s systems, checks his belt for the vital piece of evidence again, sets his hands on both blasters for a second. He knows with the bandage, the armor, he’s not exactly inconspicuous, but out here, any questions should be idle curiosity at worst. With that thought, he sighs and pushes himself out of his seat, nearly reaching for a helmet that isn’t there, and walks out of the cockpit and to the ramp, hits the button on the panel to lower it.

The air is warm, smells fresh, and he’s looking for Ahsoka before he’s even taken a step down the ramp. He doesn’t actually spot her until he’s nearly stepped out onto the duracrete floor of the docking bay, registers a grey tunic and montrals taller than he remembers and twin sabers before Ahsoka’s suddenly  _ running,  _ and he has just time to brace himself and then she’s twined her arms around his neck, close, and he’s too surprised to hug her back. He can feel her breathing for a second, then she steps back, shifting her hands to his shoulders, looking him over with a quick, analytical glance. He thinks she’s worried.

“Rex, you look- what  _ happened,  _ why are you here?” she asks, and Rex shakes his head quietly, pulling away and starting to walk away from his stolen freighter.

“I can’t talk about it out here,” he explains, tiredly. That and he needs water. If he’d been thinking more clearly, he’d have had the sense to bring more supplies, a basic medkit, but it’s probably better as it is that he hadn’t tried.

Ahsoka walks with him, and he notes she’s taller now, he’d almost think she could catch up to him. The markings on her montrals and headtails are getting sharper, darker in color. “Okay, come with me,” she tells him. “I know somewhere private.”

He finds himself, out of habit, walking just slightly behind her, hands behind his back where he has control of the set of his spine and shoulders, keeping a wary eye out. Never mind that this is just a regular town and Ahsoka herself doesn’t look very concerned.

Before she’d left, he’d never quite recognized the importance she held in his world; he thinks the same holds true for his battalion. He’d grown used to her being there, always, and then she just wasn’t. He hasn’t grown accustomed to that yet.

She brings him to a little shop, a jewelry store if he’s not mistaken, where there’s a small flight of stairs in the back leading up to a second floor apartment. This is, it would seem, hers, so Rex waits for her to go ahead of him, looks around thoughtfully for a minute. There’s a couch, of sorts, a small kitchen, a window and a TV. There’s also a holomap on a low wooden table in front of the couch, which he moves towards automatically. It is… normal.

“You live here now,” he says, not so much a question, the observation obvious. It’s just unfamiliar and he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, only that he wants to rest but he can’t afford to.

Ahsoka nods. “Yeah, for two months now. Go on, armor off, sit down, I’ll make some caf.” She waves carelessly at her couch, turns and goes into the little kitchen, and Rex hesitates a moment before doing as she said and sitting down, drawing his blasters to set them neatly on the table. He feels a mess, really shouldn’t be sitting on her furniture, but he’s  _ tired  _ and there’s a saying, isn’t there, “my house my rules”? So he at least sets about undoing the magnetic clasps of his pauldron and cuirass, hesitantly putting the pieces on the floor by the couch. He leaves the belt on, wants the all-too-important biochip where he can reach it easily, knows exactly where it is.

He examines the holomap until Ahsoka comes back, trying to work out what the highlighted points on the map are, and he looks over and nods as she sits down, carefully passing him a mug full of steaming caf. He takes it, drinks too fast even though it scorches his tongue because he needs  _ something  _ to drink, and it should help his migraine at least some.

“So,” Ahsoka begins, and he grimaces a little, “what’s so bad that you couldn’t even trust Anakin and the boys with it?” She’s watching him, careful, and he shakes his head, feels at the bandage on his head to make sure it’s still in place.

“It’s not a lack of trust,” he says, weary, although he does find himself more shaken than he’d care to admit. Things are not what they used to be. “I needed help, and I needed to get off Coruscant. This seemed like the best option. At the time, too, I- Well, it’s been a long few days. I’ll be honest, sir-”

“Ahsoka,” she corrects.

Strange times.

“Ahsoka,” he says, nodding, “I don’t know where to start.”

She sets a hand on his arm, says gently, “From the beginning.”

“Good idea,” he says wryly, although even that doesn’t feel as simple as it should. So he does his best to explain, starts from their mission with Generals Tiplee and Tiplar on Ringo Vinda, Tup shooting General Tiplar and nobody, least of all him, knowing why; he and Fives taking Tup back to Kamino because they thought he was sick and maybe the longnecks would know.

Little gods damn them.

Fives had wanted to stay with Tup, and Rex isn’t sure he’ll forgive him for not letting him, but he was worried about Fives’ response to the whole thing, worried about Tup, and someone had to take a report back to General Skywalker, so Rex sent Fives home to the battalion and stayed with Tup himself.

It’s hardest to explain about the tumors, and the surgery, and Tup dying - it takes real work to say it all smoothly, so that it makes sense. When he does, Ahsoka closes her eyes a moment, resting a hand on his shoulder, says, “I’m sorry.” He nods.

His carefully-modulated tone cracks, somewhat, and turns angry when he explains the biochips put in all his  _ vode,  _ himself, all of them since they were no more than embryos, what he thinks they’re for (although he’s not sure, still), the trip back to Coruscant.

He doesn’t mention he thinks he was drugged, not directly; it doesn’t seem relevant, and he is perhaps a little afraid she’ll dismiss the Chancellor trying to kill him as some drug-induced, confused hallucination. He knows it was not, knows he didn’t mistake anything that happened in that room, although he couldn’t say  _ why. _ Only that it happened, that he thinks he knows something nobody was ever meant to. His caf is long gone by the time he’s finished, although unfortunately his headache is not, and he’s been turning the mug carefully around and around between his fingers so there’s something to do with his excess energy.

~~~

At first, Ahsoka doesn't even know what to say.

“The _ Chancellor _ tried to kill you?” she says, finally, rubbing at her eyes. “Then that means-  _ kriff.” _ This is _ not good. _ Because if the Chancellor wanted Rex silenced, that means these biochips are Palpatine's plan in some way.

And if they're really designed to kill the Jedi…

“He could be-  _ shit,” _ and she pushes herself up to start pacing, reaching almost automatically for the Force for confirmation. “If this is somehow his plan and you're _ right _ about the chips making you kill Jedi, there's a chance the Chancellor himself is a Sith Lord.” She turns to stare at Rex, pressing her lips together, swallows hard. “This- the Council needs to hear about this as soon as possible.”

This could change _ everything. _

“I know,” Rex says, tiredly, rubbing at his head. “But I'm not sure they'll listen, I don't exactly have proof yet. That's why I needed help.”

“You have that biochip, don't you?” Ahsoka says, gesturing loosely with one hand. “We'll take it to the Temple and have it analyzed. If there's anything going on with those chips, the Jedi will find it. The trick is just going to be getting you into the Temple without getting caught by the Guard.” She already has a few ideas about how to do that, assuming she still has free access to the Temple. Maybe not, since she walked out of the Order? “I never thought I'd be going back there,” she murmurs to herself, shaking her head a bit.

She'd walked away. Closed the door on that chapter of her life.

But it seems like she's still too much a Jedi to let any of this happen.

“They think I tried to kill the Chancellor, Comm- Ahsoka. I left an explanation for the men and General Skywalker, but I can't trust anyone else with this yet.” 

“Okay,” she says, slowly. “Anyone who knows you would never believe that. What if we talked to Obi-Wan? Have him bring Cody as a witness, and Anakin and Kix - Kix should be able to run the analysis with the proper equipment, right?” If they can get an analysis, and have _ witnesses _ who aren't involved in this whole mess… then it won't matter what the Council thinks of Rex, they'll have to listen.

And this is so,  _ so _ important. She can _ feel _ it, the weight of all the Force saying  _ danger, danger. _

“Yeah, Kix could- that's a start,” Rex says, and there's a twisted, exhausted half-smile on his face.

“Good,” she says, smiling a bit herself. “We'll get started in the morning. I have some extra blankets and a pillow, you can sleep on the couch. We'll see about getting you something less conspicuous to wear in the morning, since it might be a few days before everybody can actually meet up.” She turns and goes into her bedroom, grabs the two extra blankets from the basket at the foot of the bed and tugs the second pillow into her hand, returns to the living room and drops the stuff on the floor by his armor. “You and I could both use dinner and a good night's sleep before we try anything else,” she adds, smiling a little more.

It's mostly him. But she's trying to be _ nice, _ here. And while it's true she's not the  _ best _ cook, she's learned a few easy recipes she can make that are basically impossible to kriff up, so… 

This is, she thinks, the most _ domestic _ they've been together, and it sends a sharp stab of _ longing _ through her, suddenly, for a future they'll never be able to have. Because he's a clone, and she's a-

Well. She's not a Jedi anymore. So maybe that future isn't as impossible as she's always thought it was.

Assuming Rex is even interested, of course. She'd tried, in many small ways over the years, to get a reaction out of him in…  _ that _ manner, and had never seen anything, really, so- maybe it's all useless, and really, she shouldn't even be thinking about this right now.

She just- she _ wants. _

~~~

Rex pushes himself smoothly to his feet, nodding gratefully. “Dinner and sleep both sound good,” he says, heavily. He doesn’t know what’s next, now, what he’s meant to do in Ahsoka’s apartment, how he’s supposed to behave if she’s not his Commander (although he thinks she always will be his Commander, his Jedi, regardless). “Can I help?” he asks, gruff, gesturing vaguely at her kitchen.

“No,” Ahsoka says, firm but gentle. “Sit down and  _ rest,  _ Rex, you’re dead on your feet. You can help me do the dishes afterward.” She sets a hand on his shoulder, and he hesitates, but he doesn’t think he’d get much  _ rest  _ just sitting anyway, doesn’t feel right about it either.

“I’d- really rather not,” he says, carefully, has to stop himself from adding  _ sir _ like he’s used to. “I’d feel better keeping my hands busy.” It’s that or he sits and stares at her or her holomap until he thinks too much, and he doesn’t really want to be left with his own thoughts just now.

“Alright,” she says, quietly, so he follows her into the kitchen and washes his hands, scrubbing hard at his skin until it almost hurts and he’s sure he’s clean.

“So what’s the map?” he asks, as she starts pulling ingredients out of cabinets and off shelves and setting them out. Gods, proper food. He rinses out his mug, fills it up with water from the sink and drinks that; it’s not cold, but it’s clean and his head still aches, so he’s glad for it.

“Lothal has a powerful connection to the Force, that’s why I came here,” she explains. “I’ve been spending a lot of my free time meditating, learning directly from the Force itself.” Rex raises an eyebrow, despite himself. Her, meditating regularly? He’d thought she  _ left  _ the Jedi Order. “The markers on that map are places where the Force resonates more strongly than usual. I explore them when I have time.” She grins a little, pushing a couple slices of bread and some butter at him (both look better, fresher than the stuff they have in the Coruscant mess). “Can you put butter on one side of each of the bread slices?”

“Yes, sir,” he says dryly, doing as she says; she snorts and carries a pan over to her tiny stove, comes back to put together meat and cheese and things. Her headtails are longer now, well past her shoulders, and he supposes eventually they’ll look something like Shaak Ti’s. Odd to think of her like that, to compare her with Shaak Ti, her fire to the General's ice and pragmatism.

“Don’t you ‘yes sir’ me,” Ahsoka says, picking up a spatula to stab loosely at him with a threatening look - one that’s a bit spoiled by the laughter at the end of her sentence.

Her montrals still get darker when she blushes. He doesn’t know why he’d think otherwise.

“Sorry,” he says, lightly, rolling his eyes and passing her the bread he’s buttered. “Force of habit.”

She takes the bread, putting together sandwiches and taking them over to the stove to set carefully in the pan, setting about working on those. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, casually, leaning against the counter, and Rex watches her hands, still so tired.

“Who said I was worried,” he snorts, crosses his arms and leans a bit against the counter on the other side of the stove. The sandwiches smell good, enough to make his mouth water and his head hurt worse.

It doesn’t take them long to finish, so Rex pretends it’s not unusual that Ahsoka stares at him most of the time she’s making the food, pretends also that he’s not trying to work out what’s different about her, now, by examining the lines of her face, the set of her muscled shoulders. She carries herself differently, he thinks. Both more and less like a soldier.

He wonders, if she had stayed with them, if Tup would have shot her instead of General Tiplar.

It doesn’t really matter, but he’s thinking about it anyway when they sit down again on the couch to eat. It’s not a particularly  _ helpful _ thing to think about, so he distracts himself with his food and the holomap and, sometimes, Ahsoka’s face. Strange how much better it all makes him feel,  these small things.

He's missed her, he supposes.

“How are Anakin and the others?” Ahsoka asks him, after a while, and he picks up a thread of anxiety in the words.

“Alright,” Rex answers. General Skywalker has not dealt with Ahsoka's leaving very well, and these days Rex thinks he's more anxious and more angry than he used to be. “The General misses you,” he says, neutral. “The men too, they- we- were used to having you around. It's an adjustment. The war itself…” Rex shrugs. “We might be winning, actually.” That's one good thing, the fact that they've been gaining ground against the Separatists at a steady pace, lately. “General Skywalker's been working hard.”

Ahsoka smiles at him, and as usual he can't help returning it in kind, at least a little. “That's good. I miss you guys too. It's…” She drops her gaze to her hands, looking a bit tired. “Been hard, adjusting.”

“Yeah, I'm not surprised,” Rex says. “What do you do here, anyway?”

She shrugs. “I help the owner of the store in exchange for this apartment and a small salary. Turns out the Force is really good for cutting gemstones, better than most tools and more accurate.”

“You make jewelry?” Rex clarifies, surprised for some reason he can't explain. Maybe it's just that, like this apartment itself, the occupation is  _ normal. _ Everything about this is so far from how she grew up, he knows that, and he wonders a bit if she likes that or not.

“Yeah,” she answers, glancing at him with a half-smile. “Not as interesting as being a commander in a war, but a lot safer.” Looking back down, she adds, “A lot less loss.”

Rex nods with a little hum of acknowledgement, looks down at his boots. This, he's not good at this. Talking, making karking conversation- he's not a gods-damned Senator. So he ends up just setting his fingers tight together in his lap, watching the way the light of the holomap reflects in Ahsoka's eyes and trying, again, to work out what looks different about her.

After a little of this awkward quiet, Ahsoka shifts and says, “I've read some of your mission reports, and Anakin's, kept updated on the war.”

Rex raises an eyebrow. “You're not supposed to be able to do that,” he says, lightly, amused. “That seems like something I'll have to report.” Not that he would.

_ “Rex,” _ Ahsoka says, giving him a pleading look that is, again, spoiled by the fact he can tell she wants to laugh. “You wouldn't deprive me of my only way to check up on everybody, would you?”

Rex shakes his head disapprovingly. “I'm afraid it'd be my duty to report this, sir. Besides,” and he gives her a look, “then you might just have to call us, once in a while.” Because she hasn't, not once, and Rex knows everyone has at least wondered why, and some of them have worried, and some of them are disappointed.

“I'll call you  _ every day _ if you don't report my little bit of sneaking through backdoors,” Ahsoka says, laughing, and Rex leans back a bit on the couch, shaking his head with a wry smirk.

“Bribery, Commander. Never thought I'd live to see the day.” He  _ tsks _ a little, disapproving of course.

She smirks at him, so bright-eyed, and he really did miss her. “So do we have a deal, Captain?”

He hesitates for a long moment, because he can, then shrugs one shoulder. “I suppose,” he says. “But if you miss a day, I report you. It's only fair.”

“Very fair,” she says, nodding and smiling widely.

Rex smiles back, shakes his head at her and rolls his eyes a little. His migraine has dulled to a low ache, so that's better. “You've cheated yourself a bit,” he points out. “I wasn't going to report you anyway.” He knows she knows. He almost wants to ask why she  _ hasn't  _ called, but of course she was never obligated to. And maybe she's commed General Skywalker and he didn't know, it's not as if it's his business.

~~~

“Having to talk to you isn't exactly _ cheating _ myself, more like a new highlight of my day,” Ahsoka says with a snort, shaking her head. “You know, you could've commed me first.” She hesitates a bit, then adds, awkwardly, “I'm sorry I never called, I- wasn't sure you would want to hear from me.” She'd abandoned them, walked away. Her men. She shouldn't have left them. That's what she regrets the most, leaving her men.

“Sir-  _ Ahsoka,” _ he corrects himself, a bit exasperated, “of course we wanted to hear from you, why do you think I gave you a kriffing commlink?” He's-  _ teasing, _ she thinks, and it's- it's _ nice. _

“For emergencies?” she hazards, shrugs a bit. “Alright, fine, perhaps I've been feeling a _ bit _ guilty about just up and leaving you guys.” She grins at him, shaking her head at herself. Of _ course _ they would rather she not just drop off the face of the galaxy, but…

Rex hums a bit. “If I understood right, you had to. And we're used to losing people a bit more permanently, we manage.”

Still.

She shrugs at him. “I don't really like not being able to protect you guys anymore,” she admits, sighing and flopping back against the back of the couch, setting her plate on the table by her holomap and rubbing at her face. “And I'm worried about Anakin. I can still- we didn't break the training bond, so I can still feel him, and the times when he's not shielding it's… he's worrying me.” She twists her hands together a bit, not quite anxiously.

He shifts a bit. “Me too, sometimes. Lately he gets angry easily.” His voice is very matter-of-fact, but his eyes are concerned, and she swallows a bit.

“I hope-” and she stops, shakes her head. She hopes she hasn't made everything worse for him by leaving. She had to go, but maybe- maybe she should've stayed, for the man who's like an older brother to her, for the men she's supposed to _ protect, _ for the one she- no, don't think that way. She sighs, cutting off the thought before it can come to completion, says, “You look exhausted.”

“Like I said, it's been a long few days,” he says, flat and _ almost _ emotionless.

She wants, for some inexplicable reason, to hug him. To hold him until the shadows are gone from his eyes.

“I'll let you have the couch, then,” she says, pushing herself to her feet and taking their plates into the kitchen, washing them and the pan off, methodical, careful. “Fresher is over there, down the hallway on the right, and my bedroom is at the end of the hall if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” he says, tiredly, and she can tell by the sound that he's pulling off the rest of his armor.

She finishes the dishes and goes into her room to change into pajamas, and when she comes back out Rex is already asleep, one arm under his head and the blanket tugged halfway up to his shoulders. She smiles a bit at him, at the way he's finally _ relaxed, _ goes over to him and gently, carefully pulls the blanket the rest of the way up, smooths it down. And then, unable to really help herself, she reaches out and ghosts her fingers over his face, the bandage on his temple, pulls away with a sigh.

“Sleep well, my Rex,” she whispers, and then she turns and flips off the lights, goes down the hallway.

Her Rex indeed.

~~~

It's not until he wakes up the next day (not as early, he thinks, as he'd have liked to) that Rex realizes just  _ how _ tired he's been, how much he's needed to sleep; he opens his eyes to no headache except a little remaining pain from the healing incision in his head, no confusion in his thoughts and none of the heaviness in his limbs that he hadn't even noticed was bothering him.

And he opens his eyes to Ahsoka sitting in the middle of the room, cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed and face tranquil like she's asleep, except, of course, he knows better. He decides it's better not to disturb her, sitting up quietly and reaching for his armor automatically.

“You can leave that off,” Ahsoka says smoothly, and he looks up and sees her smiling, eyes still closed. “Good morning, Rex.”

“Hey,” he says, a little awkwardly, hesitating before sitting back without his armor. 

“Did you sleep okay?” she asks, opening her eyes and pushing herself upright, smoothly. She comes over and sit next to him, and he hastily grabs the blanket he was using and rolls it up.

“I guess,” he says, shrugging. He didn't dream, for once. That's strange, too.

“That's good.” She smiles again, and he can tell she means that. “I figured this morning we could get you some civvies and then see about comming Anakin, and then you could watch me work if you like.”

The first two parts of the plan are sound, but Rex raises an eyebrow dubiously at the third. “I'm not sure anybody wants that, Ahsoka. Last I checked, clones didn't really belong in jewelry stores.” He can't imagine the owner wants a beat-up looking soldier near his wares, it's just common sense. Beyond that, he's not sure how  _ he'd  _ feel about it, just sitting and trying not to be anxious about what's happening while he's gone.

Hard to adjust, Ahsoka said. He sees why.

“Maybe _ I _ do,” she says, lightly, shaking her head. “But fair enough, you can hang around up here or wander the streets - I have to spend a few hours working today, but that's all.”

Rex nods, rubbing his forehead. He wants to keep himself busy, but doing  _ what? _ Maybe he'll just worry about that later, after they comm General Skywalker.

Ahsoka stands back up with a little shrug. “There's hot water in the fresher, so you can shower if you want,” she says, and Rex smiles a little.

“Sounds karking great,” he says, sincerely. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” she says with a grin, walking into the kitchen. “Take your time.”

It's strange leaving his armor and weapons, going into her fresher and seeing all her things. For a minute he has an irrational urge to just forget a shower and go help make caf or something, but that’s foolish, so he strips down and turns on the water and steps under the spray. It feels amazing - he’s had a hot shower only twice in his short life, more often has to settle for sonic showers or the communal showers, if he gets that much. This is so much better than both. He’s careful of his head and the bandage, because it’s all he has, washes himself over and over because some part of him feels sick, unclean, because there’s been something wrong in his brain since he was a baby, because at any time he could have gone the way Tup did and lost all his choice, killed the people he had promised himself he would protect, because the longnecks have not even left their thoughts alone.

So he takes more time than he needs to in the shower, feels embarrassed about it when he gets out and puts his blacks back on, wishing a bit that he’d brought his armor in, too, but supposing it’s probably rude to wear armor around someone’s apartment. Still, he feels cleaner and better when he comes out of the bathroom and joins Ahsoka in the kitchen, wordlessly starting on the dishes that are out since she’s making some kind of bacon and he’d really rather not lounge around like dead weight.

“Feeling better?” she asks him.

“Fine,” he answers. Even though he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, doesn’t understand this, he’s afraid he could become too comfortable with all this too fast: the apartment, making food, chatting over a meal and cleaning up after- Perhaps it will be better if he doesn’t think about it.

~~~

Ahsoka can't let herself think about how _ nice _ this all is, making breakfast with Rex like this is-  _ normal, _ just the two of them and a small kitchen and the smell of bacon frying. It's hard to push aside how much she _ wants _ this, with Rex, so much it _ aches, _ but-

She has to. Because this has never been and will never be their future - even if Rex _ did _ want it. 

(Except- now there's only the war in the way, because without her status as a Jedi there's nothing forbidding this, so… maybe there's still- if he feels anything at all for her, then maybe?)

“I didn't sleep very well,” she admits, using a pair of tongs to pull a few pieces of bacon out of the pan and set them on a plate. She cracks a few eggs into the bacon grease, throws the shells away and rinses her hands off, dries them on a towel.

“Sorry,” Rex says, commiserating. “Why?”

She hesitates, then says, not looking at him, “I don't know, exactly - I kept waking up, worried, felt like I needed to check and, well,” and she shrugs a bit, “make sure you were still here, I guess.”

Rex goes still, for a moment, then says wryly, “Sorry. Here I am, though.”

Here he is. Somehow. She smiles a little at him, flips the eggs over. “Here you are,” she echoes, and then, more hesitant, “The situation is shitty, but… I'm glad you're here.”

She can't quite look at him.

“Yeah.” Rex pauses for a long minute, then adds, “Me too.”

She wishes he could stay here.

She pulls the eggs out of the pan, drops them carefully onto a pair of plates, divvies up the bacon and pours a couple mugs of caf, hands Rex a mug and a plate and goes back out into the living room. Sits down on the couch and takes a bite of her bacon, asks, lightly, “Was it hard to adjust to fighting without me? Anakin probably had the worst time, but…” She shrugs, a bit.

“It's still strange,” he says, shrugging a bit, and she nods understandably.

“Probably hard to suddenly go from two Jedi to one. It'd be easy to forget to compensate for that in making plans.” She wonders how much Anakin's been struggling with that.

She almost misses the adrenaline rush of fighting, she's found.

“I don't know. He used to always have to.” Rex shrugs again, smiles a bit. “He manages. Everybody does.”

She wishes that was more of a comfort than it is.

Ahsoka sighs, eats more of her breakfast, casts around for another topic. Finally settles on, “So has Anakin taken a new padawan yet?”

“No. We're too busy for that, I guess.”

She frowns. Anakin, she thinks, does better with a padawan,  _ definitely _ does better when he's not alone.

She hopes he's doing alright without her.

They sit in silence, although a quiet and companionable one, for the rest of breakfast, and Ahsoka thinks about how this is all going to happen, nudges the Force, hoping for clarity. There's not much, just a steady hum of encouragement (very helpful, thanks).

She tries not to think about how _ natural _ this feels, as she stands and takes Rex's plate, goes back into the kitchen, and she washes and he dries. It's  _ easy, _ relaxed and calm, and there's an instinct nudging her to take his hand, lean into his side, and she has to consciously force that thought _ down, _ where it can't make her act. Because while this feels almost more easy than anything she's ever done, she can tell Rex is… uncomfortable, almost.

He's uncomfortable, and so she thinks- maybe he doesn't find this as… nice as she does. And really, why would he? Despite what she still hopes for, he's yet to show any interest in her, and besides. There's enough going on right now that, well- she's sure the thought of whether or not he enjoys the domesticity is very far down on the priority list.

“I'm going to go take a shower, if you've left me any hot water,” she says, teasingly, after they finish putting away the dishes, “then after, we can go get you something to wear besides your armor. It'll make you a little less conspicuous, at least.” She smiles, even though it's hard, given her previous line of thought.

“Okay,” Rex says, smiling just a little, and she has to fight back another urge to take his hand and squeeze it. He still looks so _ tired _ and she wishes she could help - it's like it's hard-wired into her, the instinctive need to _ protect _ him, even though he hardly needs her protecting.

She contents herself with a smile, turns and goes down the hallway towards the fresher, tries to think about something other than the clone in her living room.

She's only a little bit successful.

~~~

Rex isn’t really sure what to do with himself once Ahsoka vanishes into the fresher, and he doesn’t want to think about it too much, so he does the simplest thing and goes back into the little living space, retrieving his armor pieces and kitting up methodically. The steady familiarity of the movements helps him organize his thoughts somewhat, although he feels as if there’s nothing solid to stand on, right now. He doesn’t know what he’s doing here, doesn’t even want to bother about civvies. He just needs to get back and help his brothers; they all have… whatever this is, this chip, in their heads, and the Chancellor knows about it and everyone else thinks Rex himself has gone off the deep end.

Ahsoka’s right, he thinks. Hopes. None of his men would believe he tried to assassinate the Chancellor, and probably not General Skywalker either.

He checks his belt for the chip, yet again, pulls it out and turns the slide in his fingers, carefully. This has to have the answers - they said it would, but he’s a little afraid it won’t and then-

He’s being irrational. They’ll analyze the chip, they’ll find  _ something,  _ there will be answers or at least clues.

He  _ knows  _ it’s not just a karking aggression inhibiting chip.

He puts the slide back in his belt, picks up his blasters and holsters them again, glad for the weight of them, never mind that he probably won’t need them. He looks around, a moment, half-wishing there were dishes left to do; he ends up just settling down on the edge of the couch and fiddling with the holomap. It seems as if Ahsoka's been working hard on this, for a long time now. He zooms in on the places she’s highlighted, examines the city where they are now. It's a well-laid-out place. Not that it matters; this isn't a campaign.

Little gods take it.

It's something of a relief when he hears the shower turn off and Ahsoka comes out of the fresher a few minutes later, in a fresh change of clothes. Rex stands up, and she smiles at him a little and says, “I can show you around the city some later today, if you'd like.” Rex nods, slowly, and she walks over by the door to her apartment to tug on her boots. “You ready to go?”

Rex touches the bandage on his head with a little sigh and shrugs. “More or less,” he says, wryly.

So they leave her apartment, go back through the jewelry store and onto the street; it's an overcast day, cool and humid, and Rex is content to walk close behind Ahsoka, since she knows where she's going and he doesn't.

He decides he was right, the difference is in the posture and the way she walks. The confidence is not new, but it's stronger, quieter. The relaxed ease  _ is  _ new, the way she doesn't look like she's ever belonged anywhere else - that is not like a Jedi or a Commander. Of course, he could never mistake it for carelessness.

She takes him to a small, neat clothing shop - he's never been in one before, because what would be the point, and so he still just trails behind her and sets his face expressionless because otherwise he thinks he'll look lost.

She just gestures at a couple racks of clothes and tells him to pick things out because she “has extra credits,” and Rex ends up just grabbing things that aren't expensive and that sort of seem like they'll fit him, because kriff him if he knows what he's doing. He doesn't want Ahsoka spending credits on him, not for something this small, not when they have other things to worry about - but it's this or he shuffles around in her apartment in filthy blacks until they sort this all out.

So they buy the clothes, and Rex carries them in their bag back to the apartment, feeling rather sheepish about the whole thing. Still, he's mostly relieved to go to the fresher and get out of his blacks and armor, and into the new clothes, pants and too-tight shoes and a blue shirt. As he'd been taught, as he always does, he organizes his kit carefully and sets it all neatly by the couch when he's done, except the gunbelt, which he's still wearing, for all that it's out of place. He needs  _ somewhere _ to carry his blasters and vibroknife, won't go without them.

He's just buckling the belt when Ahsoka walks out of her room, carrying a datapad. “I need to work now,” she says, busy with something on the datapad, “but if you don't want to come with me you can-” She looks up, gesturing at the datapad, makes an odd, choked-off noise, and drops her eyes again. “You can use this or watch TV while I work,” she mutters, blushing, and Rex blinks.

“Okay, thanks,” he says, walking over to take the datapad from her. Maybe he can see what kind of backdoor she's been using to read their mission reports. She slips around past him and out the door with a small wave; he smiles back and then goes to settle himself down on the couch, turning on the datapad with a small sigh. He wants to check up on the state of things, but quickly regrets it; the holonews is full of the story of the rogue clone Captain who nearly succeeded in killing the Chancellor, how the Chancellor is calling for temperance and peace, how the Jedi and the GAR and everybody is refusing to comment. He sighs, leaves that be, decides to see if she's got notes of some kind on her holomap, or maybe he can find the way she gets into their mission reports.

For all that she's a civilian now, the datapad is still organized neatly, so he finds her notes and files easily enough, selects one that looks recently updated without thinking about it much.

He sighs, skims over the note he's landed on without focusing much, until his eye snags on a sentence, because, as it turns out, it contains his name.

_ “I miss everyone, these days, but there's no denying that of all the men, I miss Rex the most. I wish things could've turned out differently with him - when-” _

Oh gods, this is a karking… journal entry. Rex closes the notes, fast, doesn't want to risk anymore looking for notes on her map. He sets the datapad down and rubs fractiously at his forehead. He shouldn't have been reading that, but he didn't  _ know,  _ and he won't say anything. He didn't read much anyway, and it's not like he didn't know she missed him.

The most out of all the men, she says.

But it doesn't matter, anyway, and he shouldn't think about it. He gets up, automatically, goes and rummages around in the kitchen, learning where things are, but he's still thinking about it, like it or not.

Of course she wishes things had turned out differently, she had to leave- but she said  _ with him. _

He needs to karking stop it, that was none of his gods-damned business. And part of him wants to go read the rest, and see- but he has absolutely no right to her private thoughts, so it doesn't matter, so he needs to get his head on straight and think about something else.

_ Differently with him _ how?

Rex swears, runs a hand over the back of his neck, and gives up the effort. He can't just be sitting here by himself with nothing to do but think about shit that's none of his business, so maybe if he just sort of sits out of the way in the jewelry store with Ahsoka and talks to her then it'll be better. Anyway, he hasn't seen enough of her, and it might be nice to talk more to her if that doesn't make her mess up her work.

And she'll have no idea that he saw that she misses him more than his  _ vode  _ and she karking-

Gods, he's an idiot.

He swears again under his breath and marches out of the apartment, schools his face so he doesn't look as mixed up and pissed as he feels, and takes the stairs down to the main level of the shop. There's a red-skinned Twi’lek wiping off a counter, and he raises an eyebrow when he sees Rex.

“Where's Ahsoka?” Rex asks, politely, with an awkward shrug, and the Twi'lek points past the counter towards a door to the back. “Can I… go back there?” Rex clarifies, and the man hesitates.

“If you wanna leave your blasters up here, then fine.”

So Rex does, nods thanks and awkwardly heads through the indicated door, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He feels like a karking bantha in here with all this expensive shit, keeps his arms tucked close to his sides and walks past a couple rows of shelves towards where he can hear Ahsoka working.

~~~

Cutting jewelry with the Force requires a level of concentration Ahsoka would have never been able to achieve just a year or two ago. Now, it's a nice exercise, calming and soothing, gives her something to focus on besides the fact that Rex looks _ very _ good in that particular color of blue (and the way that the shirt he's wearing is just tight enough it shows off all his _ kriffing _ muscles, which is damned unfair). She still feels _ anxious _ about Rex being out of her sight, although she _ knows,  _ logically, that he's not going to just disappear. That he's safe upstairs.

Still. It's harder today to focus than it usually is.

She has her eyes closed, is threading the Force carefully along the shatter lines in a large sapphire when she hears and feels Rex's presence approaching, warm and bright, bringing a smile to her face. 

“Hey,” Rex says, and she smiles a bit wider, hears a chair scraping across the floor.

“Hey,” she says, keeping her focus on her work, increasing the pressure of the Force until the gem shatters. She opens her eyes, then, floats the newly-cut sapphire over to a small container and drops it in, twists in her chair to face Rex. “Didn't take you long to get bored.” She smiles, though, so he knows she's teasing him.

“Yeah, well, the news wasn't very flattering, and I don't like holodramas,” he says, wry, and she snorts.

“Yeah, they're not really my thing either,” she admits, shakes her head. “Glad to have you down here, though.” She's not going to tell him about the- anxiety, but still. It feels _ nice, _ him just sitting with her.

“Well, I was curious,” and he leans forward on his elbows, and she frowns for a moment.

“You mean- about this?” She gestures at the gems, notices his eyes following her hands.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging a bit, and she grins.

“It's not all that interesting, but…” Ahsoka shrugs. “It's good for focusing.” She picks out another gemstone, settles into the familiar routine, easy as breathing.

Rex doesn't say anything, just hums a bit, and she sighs and focuses on her task.

She only works for a couple of hours, really, chatting with Rex on and off until she finishes. Then she organises her little area, pushes her chair back, and waves for Rex to follow her, nodding at Aryn on her way by. “I may be offworld for a couple days in the near future,” she says, light, and the Twi'lek frowns a bit.

“Jedi business?”

“Of a sort,” she answers carefully, and he nods.

“No worries. The apartment will still be there when you get back.” She can _ tell _ he wants to ask about Rex, but he holds his tongue, although the meaningful glance he gives Rex as he picks his blasters up is close enough to asking outright, for Aryn.

She doesn't give him any information, though - she'd told him, early this morning, that she has a friend staying for a few days. That'll have to satisfy his curiosity. 

She and Rex go back up the stairs, and Ahsoka crosses over the couch, adjusts her wristcomm to Anakin's frequency and pings his comm in the pattern for a private conversation. It takes a few minutes before there's an answer; she's almost given up when static crackles across the line and there's a short, sharp,  _ “Skywalker.” _

Force, she's missed him.

“Hello, Master,” she says, more relaxed than she feels, and Rex comes over and sits down next to her. “It's been a while.”

_ “Ahsoka?” _ He sounds _ shocked, _ and desperately hopeful, and she winces a bit. She should've called him sooner.

“Is there anybody else that calls you Master?” she asks, wryly, and Rex snorts a bit. “How soon could you, Kix, Cody, and Obi-Wan meet me and a _ friend,” _ and she stresses that word, doesn't dare say Rex's name over comm, given that he's technically a criminal, “somewhere safe and neutral? With equipment to analyze some sort of biochip.”

There's a long pause.  _ “It'd probably be a couple days, Obi-Wan is on a campaign right now. Snips, just- are you alright? You and our friend? The battalion is worried about both of you.” _

“We're fine,” she says. “Anakin, please tell Obi-Wan to hurry - I think we know who the Sith Lord is.”

_ “Well great, now I have  _ **_that_ ** _ bombshell on my mind for the next couple of days.” _ Anakin sounds _ worried. “Any hints?” _

“This isn't a secure line, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you.” Unfortunately. “Just be  _ patient, _ Skyguy. I'll see you soon.”

_ “May the Force be with you,” _ Anakin says, and Ahsoka smiles a little bit as the comm disconnects.  _ “I'll contact you soon with a date and a place.” _

Everything is going to be fine.

~~~

Rex can imagine his General’s face when he answered the comm and heard  _ Ahsoka,  _ of all people, on the other end, the shock and almost pained relief. If it wasn’t so important to Ahsoka to be here, he thinks he’d tell her about his more private fears for General Skywalker, but as it is it would only worry her, make her unsure of herself.

He didn’t come here to ask her to come back. He can’t do that to her, because they can do without her, they’ll all be fine, and it wouldn’t be right. She said she was leaving to figure things out, so she needs to be able to do this, and he can’t kriff that up just because he’s a little worried.

The biochips are something else entirely, a big enough problem to excuse this.

He shakes himself a bit, rests his hands on his knees. “Are you going to tell the General you think the Chancellor is the Sith?” Rex himself isn’t convinced of the theory, for all that Palpatine clearly isn’t what he’d claimed to be. That kind of deception for so long… He doesn’t know how anyone would manage it.

“Yes,” she says firmly. “I have to.”

Rex frowns, a little. There’s another problem, one he’s not so sure of so he’s hesitant to mention, but he hadn’t gone straight to Skywalker with this because lately, Rex thinks one of the people his General trusts is Chancellor Palpatine.  _ Technically,  _ that sort of thing isn’t Rex’s business, but Rex is General Skywalker’s second - you learn things, that way. Partly, he doesn’t want to kriff that up.

Partly, he’s a little afraid that even his  _ General  _ won’t believe him regarding this - he knows he was acting erratically, and when it comes down to it, Palpatine is the  _ Chancellor, _ Skywalker's friend. Rex knows that General Skywalker may be many things, but disloyal is not one of them. So who would he believe, out of two people he trusts, when only one of them has run off in a panic with no more explanation than a wavering explanation that makes little sense?

“Who’s going to believe that?” he asks, not accusing, just matter-of-fact. “Hells, sir- Ahsoka, I’m not sure I do.”

“It’s a suspicion, Rex,” she says, wearily, and he nods.

“General Skywalker has always respected him. Now I think they talk a lot, he trusts him. I didn’t…” The drugs had been part of it, in his muddled state all he could think was that General Skywalker might not listen, that no one would listen. “I didn’t think he would listen to me if I said that Chancellor Palpatine tried to have me killed. Most of that was- paranoia, but I’m still not sure he’ll want to believe me.”

“He might not,” Ahsoka says, rubbing her face and pushing herself to her feet. “But this is too important, I don’t… we need to at least tell the Jedi about these suspicions.”

“I know,” Rex answers, also standing. But he doesn’t know what he’ll do if  _ his General  _ doesn’t believe him, and he can’t get the possibility out of his mind. “But if I can’t convince them…” He trails off, tired, knows she knows what that means. Then whatever’s wrong with his  _ vode,  _ whatever the Chancellor and the Kaminoans are doing, it goes on unchecked. And he can’t let that happen.

“We will,” she says, determined, and he smiles a little.

“I sure hope so.”

Ahsoka reaches over to him and sets a hand on his shoulder, squeezing her fingers a little. “Did you still want me to show you around?” she asks, almost uncertain.

Rex nods. “Lead the way,” he says, casually. If this can just help him not think so much about everything else, about his family, about what if he can’t help his brothers, about what Ahsoka wanted to be different before she left…

There’s very little safe ground here. It will be better, he thinks, if they just walk and there are people and he tries to pretend he's just a normal Human - he's never been good at that, but it's got to be better than dwelling on things that he can, for now, do nothing about.

So they go out into the city again, on streets bustling with mostly Human sentients, free-roaming loth-cats, and speeders in fairly organized traffic. It's one of the nicer cities Rex has seen, easy to navigate, busy but not choking, precious little pollution and no swarming police and, here at least, no signs of the war. Along some of the residential streets, Ahsoka picks up a follower: a little brown tabby loth-cat, lazily flicking its tail back and forth. She barely seems to notice, but Rex watches the little thing following her, watches her easy confidence and its scampering restlessness, and he wants, suddenly, to reach for her. To put an arm around her shoulders and walk  _ close, _ or to take her hand in his and hold on tight. He doesn't.

“Do you have any friends here?” he asks, casually, instead. She shouldn't have to be alone.

“Some,” she says, shrugging, and that, at least, is good. “I don't interact with a whole lot of people these days, and most of them… The Jedi are not as popular as they once were.” And she lifts her shoulders again.

Rex tries to imagine being alone somewhere like this, without his  _ vode, _ without his General, without her. Even the thought sends a pang of loneliness through him and he pushes away the idea. Ahsoka can’t really lack friends for long, he thinks - it’s not how she is, with all her cheerfulness and energy and kindness. Still, for a while, she’s been - will be - lonely.

“Good thing you aren’t a Jedi, then,” he teases, tucking his hands behind his back, and Ahsoka snorts, slowing down for a second to pick up her new shadow, the tabby cat.

“Close enough to one for them.”

“They’ll forget,” he says, matter-of-fact. “Give people time and I don’t think it’ll make a difference.” He wonders if the same would be true for him. Maybe his brother that had left, the one that he barely allows himself to think about - maybe Cut would know. Whether people eventually stop caring that you have a face made for war.

Ahsoka shrugs, slightly, rubbing the loth-cat’s head behind its ears. “It’s been… I’m used to it, now.”

It’s a lie. She’s a better liar, now, but she’s never been a good one and Rex knows her too well. “No, you’re not,” he says, looking over to give her a crooked smile. “Shouldn’t try to fool me, sir, I’ve known you too long. It’ll pass, I figure.”

“I said to call me Ahsoka,” she points out, lightly, and Rex rolls his eyes just a bit. She sighs, though, and, looking over at him more seriously, adds, “It’s better when you’re here.”

“I try my best.” Rex shrugs one shoulder with a small smirk, tightens his hands together behind his back.

Ahsoka looks down at the loth-cat in her arms, absently, lips tightening into a thin line for a moment. Then, so quiet that he wonders whether he really heard anything after all, she says, “I wish you could stay.”

She’s missed him, she said so - to him, and in her private notes. He’s missed her too. He doesn’t know what to say, though; staying is out of the question, of course it is, and it’s not as if she’d really want him hanging around all the time. He settles for an awkward, hopefully commiserating, “I know,” also quiet in case she really didn’t say that and he’s just imagining things.

His thoughts haven’t been the most  _ reliable  _ lately.

Ahsoka shrugs a little, and he thinks that’s the end of it, except then, in pieces of words, hesitant, she says, “If you- when the war is over, if you ever need somewhere to go, you could… there’s always here.” She doesn’t look at him, and Rex walks in silence for a moment, counts his breaths, suddenly a little afraid to think.

_ I wish things could’ve turned out differently with him,  _ she said.

He doesn’t dare ask what she means, because mostly he knows, it’s just… He has questions, suddenly, a lot of them, so he presses them down and squares his shoulders and says, honestly, “I don’t think that far ahead.” It comes out awkward, nearly apologetic, and he controls the rest of what he wants to say more carefully. “It doesn’t- Whenever I think about the end of the war, there are too many things to worry about. I’m not sure what happens to us after, I’m not sure we’ll get a chance at anything like this.” He gestures around them, vaguely, meaning this sort of normalcy, peace. “But it’s- you’re right.” There is always here. If she’s still here, if the war ends and they get to, what, try to make their own lives, if the impossible happens and they all just get to leave it behind, then there’s this place, and- and he’s not sure.

Ahsoka nods. “I know you’d want to stay with your brothers, if… something like that happened, but I just wanted to let you know. That the offer stands.”

Rex wants to ask what all the offer means, if she means… other things, too, besides a planet to go to, somewhere to live if he has to. Wants to. Doesn’t.

“Thank you,” he says, sincerely, instead.

She nods.

~~~

She'd known before she'd made the offer that Rex wouldn't stay, wouldn't come, even if he _ could. _ Why would he? There's nothing for him here, and his brothers aren't here, and she _ knows _ his brothers are the most important thing in the galaxy to him - which is how it _ should _ be, they're his _ brothers. _

She just- she loves him, and she wishes- but that's a moot point, now. Because no matter what, his brothers, his _ family, _ are his first priority, and she can't go back. Not unless-

If he asked. She'd go back, then, if Rex asked her to.

They wander around the city for a while, then Ahsoka smiles and says, “Come on, I know somewhere we can go get dinner.”

“Okay,” he says, sounds surprised, and she turns so she can grin teasingly at him.

“Figured I'd save you from my terrible cooking for one night. Don't get your hopes up, though, I can't afford to do this all the time.” She shakes her head a bit, sighs. “That's one thing the Jedi don't teach you - budgeting.”

“Your cooking isn't as bad now,” he says, dryly. “Don't sell yourself short.”

“A high compliment coming from the person who refused to let me make rations when I was the _ only uninjured person _ because ‘even Hardcase can't eat them if _ you _ cook, Commander Tano’,” she says, imitating his voice as best she can. “You've certainly changed your tune.”

“Well, he _ couldn't, _ and Hardcase could eat anything,” Rex tells her, and she rolls her eyes. “I said it wasn't that bad now, not that it was delicious.”

She flips him off, grumbling. “If you're gonna be that way I just won't cook for you at all, then.”

“Joke's on you. I can just cook for myself,” Rex says, and oh _ really. _ “And I'm a better cook.”

“Really?” She raises an eyebrow. “I don't believe you.” They're nearing the restaurant now, and she knows both of them are getting strange looks from the other passersby, but she doesn't particularly care. There's something swelling warm and sharp within her, a kind of _ joy _ at the light, easy banter, and she's- she's _ missed him. _ So much, hells.

“You don't have to believe me for it to be true,” Rex says, and hmm.

“I think you're just gonna have to prove it,” she says. “I've never had your cooking, how can I know if you're telling the truth without _ evidence?” _ She grins, bright, shoves his shoulder just a little.

“Anytime,” he says, loosely. “I'm not as good as Echo, but I can make some stuff.”

“Well, then you're in charge of breakfast tomorrow,” she decides, almost reaches for his hand on instinct and has to quickly pull back, pretend nothing happened. “And we'll see who's better.”

It probably won't be her, but still. It'll be fun either way.

She's only been to this little restaurant once, but apparently Aryn takes his wife and two children here all the time, and he's the one who'd recommended it to her the first time. It's a bit expensive - with buying clothes this morning and the restaurant tonight, she'll have to be careful with her money until she next gets paid.

It's a bit early for dinner yet, so the restaurant isn't busy and Ahsoka and Rex are seated right away, brought glasses of water and menus, and Ahsoka orders some kind of mixed drink that looks good, because the legal drinking age is sixteen Standard on Lothal and she's almost eighteen, so she's plenty old enough, and she wants a drink. Rex doesn't get anything himself, just water, which doesn't really surprise her, although she wishes he'd loosen up a little. He's so tense she almost thinks he might just  _ snap. _

“So what do you think of the city?” she asks, lightly, perusing her menu but keeping an eye on Rex's face.

“Nice, I guess,” and she almost misses the sort of wince that flickers across his face.

So he doesn't really like it, then. Oh well, it's not like- like he would've stayed _ anyway, _ or like he would've come back after, so she shouldn't be so, well,  _ disappointed. _

(She still is.)

“It's not a bad place to live,” she says, quietly. “Better than Coruscant, in some ways.” She'd live on Coruscant if she had to, and it'd be closer to her family, which is good, but… Lothal is good, too.

Lonely, though.

Very lonely.

_ Force, _ she wishes Rex could stay.

“Seems better in a lot of ways,” he says wryly, and she snorts.

“Very true. It's… a long ways from my family, though. You and Anakin and the boys. And Padmè and Obi-Wan, I guess,” she adds, quickly, snorting a bit. She really has missed everyone.

“That's what you get for wanting privacy,” he says, sarcastic, and she rolls her eyes, brandishes her menu threateningly at him.

“That's not why I left, don't be an idiot,” she says, and then, thoughtfully, “Although, I definitely did appreciate the distance from Fives’ teasing.” Fives had always been _ insufferable, _ teasing her about Rex when there was _ obviously _ nothing there. She'd tried to tell him a hundred times (at least) that Rex wasn't interested (she hadn't seen the point in denying her own too-obvious interest), but he'd never listened.

~~~

“Everyone appreciates less of Fives’s teasing,” Rex snorts, although part of him twists tight at that. Tup was Fives’ best friend. Tup is dead now. And Rex isn’t there to help Fives, and Fives has had to lose too much, and Rex should  _ be there. _ He worries, these days, that someday even his closest brothers, even Fives and Jesse and Cody and Kix, won’t be able to take any more loss.

He worries, sometimes, times like these, that someday  _ he  _ won’t be able to take any more.

But that is not something to think about here.

Ahsoka chuckles a little, nodding. “He’s  _ insufferable.” _

“He was worse when he was a shiny,” Rex informs her, smiling a little. “Kid thought he knew  _ everything.”  _ Especially about women, which the veterans had all found either exhausting or hysterical. He’d gotten more than his fair share of teasing, always took it gamely and returned the favor.

Ahsoka laughs, warm, and Rex thinks she’s imagining it, for a moment. Then she raises an eyebrow and leans forward on the table, grinning at him. “What were  _ you  _ like as a shiny, Rex?” He reddens, wants to grumble but just stares flatly at her instead. “If you ever  _ were  _ a shiny,” Ahsoka adds, thoughtful, mischievous, her eyes sharp with suppressed amusement. “I’m pretty sure you just popped out of Kamino jaig-eyed and grumpy.”

Rex snorts, shaking his head, and looks down, embarrassed despite himself. “You’re not far off,” he says, half-smiling. He’s always been serious, but less so, when he was young. He used to joke more, tease more. Hells,  _ Cody  _ used to prank people occasionally.

But Cody was always supposed to be an officer, and Rex got the same training, and they were the first. Their training was intensive. So they learned that there were things you kept carefully to yourself, to your  _ aliit. _

“I was serious. And boring,” he says, lightly, teasing. “And I did get the jaig eyes early.”

_ “You,  _ serious?  _ Never,”  _ Ahsoka teases, with an actual  _ giggle,  _ and Rex rolls his eyes. He knows, he knows. “I don’t think you’ve ever been boring, though, sorry.”

Rex can’t help a real, actual smile at that. “Shut up,” he snorts.

“Nah,” she answers, loosely, and Rex chuckles and peers at his menu again, makes a pretense of deciding on something although in reality, when the waitress comes back and asks them what they’ll be getting today, Rex just kind of stabs his finger at the menu like he knows what he’s doing at all. He thinks his random stab looks pretty good, at least.

The waitress smiles, writes something down, and turns to Ahsoka, who seems to know exactly what she wants and have actually  _ thought  _ about it, like a normal person. Rex grins at her, and the waitress glances between them with a pleased little smile of her own.

“Anything else for either of you?” she says, sugary-pleasant, and Rex shrugs at Ahsoka, who shakes her head.

“That’s okay, thanks,” she says, and the waitress hurries off, still smiling.

“I’ve never been in a restaurant,” Rex mentions, matter-of-fact, shrugging. “It’s weird.”

“I’ve only been in one a couple times myself. It’s nice, though.”

“I guess.” The waitress smiles too much. It’s probably on purpose, supposed to be friendly, but Rex doesn’t know what to do with it. “Depends on how the food is,” he adds, teasing.

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, grinning. “It’s good, Aryn told me about it and I’ve been here once. I wouldn’t take you somewhere with food  _ worse  _ than my own cooking, now would I?”

“No, I suppose even you wouldn’t do that,” Rex agrees.

_ “Even  _ me?” Ahsoka says, raising an eyebrow and leaning forward across the table again.

Rex waves a hand in a small, careless gesture toward her. “I said what I said.”

“Rude!” she says, laughing.

It's so nice, like this, not having to think about his losses or the chips or what he's going to do next or any of it; for now they just sit, and talk, and the waitress brings back the food for “you two sweethearts” (which is a karking odd way to phrase it and makes Ahsoka blush), and Rex enjoys the burger sort of thing he ordered and teases Ahsoka occasionally. He tries a couple sips of her drink, thinks it's way too sweet for him but if she likes it then alright.

When the waitress comes back and asks which of them is paying, Rex is reluctant to let Ahsoka pay for his too, because she didn't  _ ask  _ him to come here and take up space and need civvies and food - maybe he'll pay her back after. He doesn't argue it with her, just shrugs and mumbles “Thanks,” quirking a small smile.

She's warm, light, tells him, “Of course, I have to repay you for the company somehow.”

Rex swallows, chuckles, and when he looks up the karking waitress is smiling too much again as she takes Ahsoka's credit stick, but he doesn't mind. “Right, I'm real great company.”

“The best,” Ahsoka says, softly, like she means it, and Rex suddenly doesn't know what to do. He looks down at the table as the waitress leaves, twisting his hands together, and tries not to overthink all this.

“Thanks,” he says, just as quiet.

“Yeah.”

Ahsoka gets up after a moment with a small sigh, skimming her hands on the table for a second and then rapping her knuckles. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Rex gets up too, automatically reaching a hand toward Ahsoka without thinking. She does the same just as he realizes what he’s doing and stops himself, jerks his hand back to stuff it in his pocket. Still, their fingers brush, and for a second he’s intensely disappointed to pull away.

Of course, that’s ridiculous of him.

He mutters a quiet, “Sorry,” wills himself not to turn red.

Ahsoka clears her throat a little, starts away from the booth, and Rex follows, wanting to kick himself. “My bad,” she says, with what he suspects was supposed to be a light tone.

Little  _ gods,  _ he needs to pull himself together.

Needless to say, it’s an awkward walk back to her apartment, which Rex mostly blames himself for. He also discovers that pockets are kriffing  _ great  _ when you want to keep yourself from fidgeting. Gods take it, he didn’t come here to- to do whatever the  _ hells  _ he thinks he’s doing.

She wanted to take his hand too, he’s pretty sure.

Not that it  _ karking  _ matters,  _ gods. _

~~~

The next morning, Ahsoka pulls Rex into the kitchen with a cheerful, “Your turn,” grinning smugly at him and trying (mostly successfully) not to think of- of whatever _ that _ was, last night. (He couldn't have been reaching for her, that's not- he doesn't- he couldn't have been.) She's expecting Anakin to comm her today - he's not very patient in the best of times, and with this she thinks he'd literally drag Obi-Wan off a battlefield.

But first, breakfast.

“I know, I know,” Rex grumbles, good-naturedly, and he starts pulling out pans and utensils - she considers asking, for a moment, how he knows where everything is, then figures he just wanted to know the terrain. It only makes sense.

She smirks a bit, adds, “If you're going to cook, you've gotta do it _ properly, _ like a _ real _ civilian,” and reaches into a drawer and pulls out the apron Aryn's kids had gotten her, claiming that she _ had _ to have one,  _ it's basically a rule, Ahsoka. _

She hadn't argued with them.

Rex just _ looks _ at her, for a moment, raising an eyebrow, then says, very flat, “I'm not wearing that, Ahsoka.”

She pouts at him, says,  _ “Rex,” _ a _ bit _ whiny, because come _ on, _ he'll ruin all the _ fun. _ Stupid-  _ “I _ wore it when Aryn's kids asked me too. You're a poor sport.”

“You didn't wear it when you were cooking yesterday,” Rex says, snarky and warm, “so I don't have to.”

_ “Fine,” _ she says, “I'll wear it during lunch and dinner. Come _ on, _ Rex,  _ please?” _

Before he can say anything, she unfolds it very fast and goes on her tiptoes so she can hook the apron around his neck, reaches around behind him and ties the strings in a quick knot (tries not to realize she's _ basically _ hugging him for the handful of seconds this takes), steps back just a little and looks pleadingly up at him. 

Rex snorts, smiles just a little. “Since it seems like I have no choice, fine.”

She grins,  _ bright,  _ and that's when she happens to glance down and remember that the apron reads  _ kiss the chef _ in bright blue letters. And he's just- he's _ adorable, _ grinning down at her, his golden eyes so warm, and she's missed him so _ much, _ and so-

Before she can think any better of it (because this is a _ terrible _ idea), Ahsoka pushes herself up on her toes and kisses his cheek. Then pulls back, abruptly, flushing, because what the _ kriff, _ Ahsoka, and says, as casually as she can (maybe too casually?), “Well, you _ are _ the chef this morning, right?”

He's just blinking and confused, and oh _ Force, _ she just- how could she have just  _ done that, _ this is _ so _ embarrassing.

“If that's the reaction I get,” Rex mumbles, oh _ no, _ “I should wear an apron more often.”

What. “What?” Ahsoka says, dumbly, stops swearing at herself for a moment. Did he just…? Is he-? “Does that mean you-” no, she can't ask that.

What the _ kriff _ is even going on?

~~~

Rex fumbles at the pan he got out, without exactly looking at it or Ahsoka. “I don’t- I don’t know, I just-” He stops, just keeps himself from swearing out loud, lets go of the pan since he doesn’t even know what he’s doing with it.

What just  _ happened? _ She- He glances quickly at Ahsoka, unsure of himself, and she’s kind of shifting back and forth, her face and montrals flushed darker, and she doesn’t look at him so he can’t figure out what’s going on, what he should think. She wouldn’t just… do that for no reason, would she?

He already knows she didn’t.

“I have no idea what just happened,” she says quietly, and Rex frowns.

“Me neither,” he says, light as he can, half-smiling, fumbling a bit at his supplies again like a karking _di’kut._ _“You_ started it.”

Ahsoka looks up at him, appraisingly almost, her bright blue eyes guarded so he can’t quite tell what she’s thinking. He doesn’t know what to do, he’s standing in Ahsoka’s kriffing kitchen in an  _ apron  _ and she’s so close, and then all of a sudden she’s reached a cautious hand up to his face, and her cool palm and fingers skim over his cheek.

Rex thinks he’s frozen, couldn’t move if he tried, couldn’t look away either.

“Did you mean that?” Ahsoka asks, hoarsely, and Rex frowns slightly. Mean what, what’d he say? He didn’t blurt out something stupid, did he? Not recently, anyway. “About… wearing an apron more often, if that’s the reaction you get?”

Right,  _ that. _ Rex reaches up, rubs the back of his neck like he’s a gods-damned shiny, shrugs. “I mean, I don’t- I’m not gonna wear an apron more often,” he says, awkwardly. Which wasn’t even the  _ question  _ but what the kriff does he say about the  _ other  _ thing?  _ Yeah, I’d definitely like you to kiss me more often _ isn’t going to work, even if it’s pretty much true. Kriff. “But I didn’t- I said it,” he offers clumsily. “I’m not taking it back, if that’s what you mean.”

Ahsoka’s hand is still cool on his cheek, and she swallows, chewing on her lip a little. “Well, umm,” her voice is shaky, and so is Rex, “I’ve- wanted to kiss you for a long time, so is that you giving me permission?”

“Okay,” he rasps, fighting the urge to shove his hands into his pockets or through his hair.  _ A long time,  _ she says. “Yeah, I mean- Yeah.”

“Okay,” Ahsoka echoes him, and it’s very still for a second and Rex doesn’t know what to do. Then Ahsoka puts her other hand on his shoulder and he finds himself curling one arm around her, and she leans half up onto her toes and kisses him, light and soft and careful.

She starts to pull back a little, but Rex doesn’t let her, tugs her against his chest and leans down quickly to kiss her again.

He’s wanted to do this for a long time, too, after all.

Then he does let go, and step back and rub the side of his head a bit, smiling. “I- So- Breakfast?”

Ahsoka laughs a little, catches his shoulder so she can kiss the corner of his mouth again, and he grins.

“I was serious,” he points out.

“Yeah, I know,” she answers, still laughing. “I just wanted to do that.”

Rex snorts and tries to remember what the  _ kriff  _ he was planning before… before  _ that  _ happened. “I’m not really complaining.” He shrugs, stubbornly gets his fidgeting back under control. Maybe he  _ should  _ really do things like this more often.

~~~

Ahsoka really doesn't know how she got to be in this situation, standing with Rex in her little kitchen, having just _ kissed him. _ If she's honest with herself, she'd _ never _ even dreamed something like this could be _ real _ \- sure, dreams of him with her, living domestically, had kept her _ sane _ when all the loneliness got to be too much, but… she'd never really thought he'd be here.

If she's honest, she'd never expected to even _ see _ him again, as much as that had hurt to think about. Because she's loved him for- a long time, longer than she even can _ remember, _ and so the idea of him just being _ gone _ (and the reality of it, because for the last three months…) had felt like a knife stabbing into her heart. 

And now he's here. And he _ kissed her. _

(She doesn't let herself think about what'll happen when he leaves.)

“So, breakfast,” she says, lightly, leaning against the counter, can't seem to stop grinning at him.

She almost can't believe this is _ real. _

“Yeah,” he says, wry but still a bit red, “I've still gotta prove I'm a better cook than you, remember?”

“Oh yeah,  _ that,” _ she says, chuckling, bumps his shoulder with her own. “Can I help?”

“I guess,” he says teasingly, and she snorts.

“So what do you need?”

Rex has her get out some eggs and start beating them, which she does, although she's curious what he's _ making _ \- he seems  _ cheerful,  _ and there's warmth and, and _ happiness _ radiating out into the ambient Force as he gets out a crusty loaf of bread, freshly made a couple days ago, and starts slicing it. He gets out milk, too, and some spices, and she tilts her head curiously, watching his hands as he works. She likes his hands.

“What are you making?” she asks, setting the bowl of beaten eggs next to him.

“I don't know,” he says, shrugging, although he's still grinning at her some. “I just saw Echo make these bread things a couple times, and they're good.”

Echo had been the best cook in the battalion, although Fives was pretty good too - after the Citadel extraction, Fives had rarely cooked _ anything, _ and if someone _ was _ cooking, it was usually Tup, as very few of the men actually knew _ how. _

She hadn't known Tup as long as some of the others, but his death still _ hurts. _

“Cool,” she says, and Rex adds milk and the spices and sugar and such to the eggs, mixes it all up, and then he starts soaking the bread in the egg and milk mixture. He lets that sit for a moment, then carefully lays out the slices in the pan.

“Do you have any syrup?”

She frowns, pulls open the fridge and inspects it, finds a single small bottle. “A little,” she says, mildly, “which impresses me, since I don't know why I'd buy it.”

Rex chuckles, flips the bread slices over, and she watches his hands again, smiling to herself. 

He's _ here, _ and for a few days, at least, she has him.

~~~

Rex pours what's left of the eggs into a new pan, sets about cutting up bacon to add to them, trying not to smile too much and not really succeeding. If he thinks about this too much, he starts to remember all the reasons why  _ kissing Ahsoka  _ was maybe not the best idea, but Rex is practiced at not thinking about things.

Besides, if he gets distracted he might burn the food, and then he’d lose their little competition.

It doesn’t take too long to finish making the food, and Rex divides it all up unceremoniously on two plates, handing one to Ahsoka and taking the time to turn off the stove and put some of the things away or by the sink. “Ready to admit I’m right?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and gesturing at the couch where they ate the day before.

“In your dreams,” she laughs, rolling her eyes, and Rex shakes his head as they go sit down. He settles back against the couch cushions, and Ahsoka sits next to him, startling him by leaning into his side and tugging her legs up next to her, shifting a little until she’s apparently comfortable.

He blinks, smiles a little quizzically, and quickly looks down at his own plate of breakfast. This is so  _ nice. _ Like… like all the things he can’t have, all at once, right now. He quickly takes a bite of his food so he doesn’t say anything stupid, notes absently to himself that he did do a good job.

Ahsoka also tries her food, eyebrows going up in apparent surprise, which is a little bit  _ insulting  _ if Rex thinks about it. “Well, I  _ guess  _ this is pretty damn good,” she says, turning to grin at him mischievously.

“High praise,” Rex says dryly, although he is feeling a bit proud of himself. “Wanna admit I was right now?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Ahsoka says, which is just  _ typical. _ Rex rolls his eyes. “There’s not enough  _ incentive.” _ She’s looking at him very pointedly, and Rex busies himself with his breakfast.

“You’re a tough customer,” he answers, sort of fumbling with his fork.

“Not really.” Ahsoka pushes her food around on her plate, smiling a little. “I just know what I like.” She leans closer to him, cozy, and Rex lets his lips quirk up a bit.

“Of course you do,” he mutters, half-chuckling and elbowing her. “Just eat your breakfast, Ahsoka.”

She twists her face in a pouting scowl, poking at her plate. “I am.”

Rex chuckles again and goes back to his food, comfortable and perhaps a little smug. He can’t believe this, any of it, but he’s not going to question it now. Certainly not with Ahsoka tucked up against him, grumbling and giving him peeved sidelong looks. He thinks she wanted to kiss him  _ again,  _ and  _ there’s  _ a novel idea.

Not one he  _ dislikes, _ though.

So when he finishes his food, before she does, he sets his plate down and leans back to slip an arm around her shoulders, turning to kiss her forehead. She hums a little, tilts her head to look straight up at him, smirking a little, and he rolls his eyes and takes the hint, leaning down to press his lips to hers.

It’s a good day.

And it  _ stays  _ good, somehow, for a couple days - General Skywalker comms later that day to set up a time and coordinates to meet them. It’s not gonna be soon enough, in Rex’s estimation, but that also means that for two days, it’s just… him and Ahsoka. They cook together more often than not and she  _ keeps  _ smiling (he thinks he probably does too) and while she works he fiddles with his blasters, takes them apart and puts them back together so he doesn’t feel like he’s just letting himself forget what’s going on. (He’s not; there are nightmares and he hates leaving his armor to sit and sometimes he’s lost in thought when Ahsoka tries to talk to him.) Mostly, it’s good, he thinks.

As unlikely as it is, as much as he really can’t do this or have this, it’s good.

The day they’re supposed to meet General Skywalker, Rex and Ahsoka take their separate ships (he, his stolen one, and she, her fighter) to meet up with the  _ Resolute _ in neutral space. Skywalker said he’d return the ship Rex stole, which should at least help a little. Maybe Rex can scrounge up some credits to pay the owner of the freighter, if everything smooths out, but for now this is the best he can do.

Gods, Rex isn’t sure anything else he’s ever done has been this important. If he can’t do this, if Kix doesn’t find anything in that biochip, if General Skywalker doesn’t believe him, then his family, his brothers, the Jedi… He doesn’t know what will happen, but victory finally seems within reach and he can’t lose them now.

So it’s with anxiety curdling cold and sharp in his stomach and a certain feeling of inevitability that he changes from the civvies Ahsoka bought him to his blacks and armor again, sliding his vibroblade into his gauntlet and his blasters into their holsters. The chip is still safe in a pouch on his belt, where he’s kept it, and he sighs, leaves it there.

Quite suddenly, standing in her apartment no longer feels as comfortable as it had begun to. Not with the weight of what’s happening pressing in on him like it’s clinging to his armor. Ahsoka joins him in her living room, more severe herself in grey with her sabers on her belt and bracers on her arms.

“Ready to go?” he asks, seriously, with the tiniest curve of a smile. He hasn’t forgotten that if they can work out this problem, it also means he goes back to his men and leaves her. That’s another thing he’s determinedly avoiding thinking about.

~~~

“Yeah,” Ahsoka says with a sigh, hesitates for a moment before stepping closer to Rex and tracing her fingers over his cheek. This is _ important, _ she knows it is, but still - she can't help thinking about the fact Rex will be _ leaving, _ soon.

She'll be alone again, after all this. She's not sure she'll be able to stand it.

She has to, of course, so she will, but… it'll be hard. Harder even than leaving was, she thinks, because she wasn't losing _ this _ when she left.

She slips her arm around the back of Rex's neck and tilts up onto her toes a bit so she can lean in and kiss him, soundly, harder than she really has yet (she's been trying to be careful, because it's clear he doesn't entirely know how to handle all this), pulls back and threads her fingers through his and leads him down the stairs, nods briefly at Aryn (who gives her a piercing look, eyeing her and Rex's joined hands meaningfully). She supposes she'll have to give him a brief explanation of all this when she gets back.

(When she gets back she'll be alone again.)

They walk to the spaceport together, then Ahsoka smiles and says, “I'll see you there,” squeezes his hand and kisses him one more time.

“Seeya,” Rex says, quietly, and turns and heads for his stolen ship - she watches him go until he vanishes into the docking bay and then goes to get her own. Tries not to already miss him beside her.

She gets her ship clear of the planet, sets the coordinates, and makes the jump into hyperspace, and then there's nothing to do but remember that if all this goes well, it means no more Rex again. And this is _ so _ important, it _ has _ to work, but as always she can't help wishing things could be _ different, _ with Rex. That they could, could have what they've had the last few days, the warmth and ease of it, the way it feels so _ natural _ to stand in the kitchen and cook together, the way she wants this more than breathing, almost.

It's just… for a few days he was _ hers, _ and now she has to let the war and his brothers have him again.

She pushes all that _ back _ when she brings her small ship out of hyperspace, back where it can't distract her from the mission, the _ reason _ she's here (it mostly works). Seeing the _ Resolute _ just floating in space, so familiar, sends a pang through her heart - her _ family _ is here, all of them.

She wants to see the men, but- should she? Because if they ask her to stay, how can she _ refuse _ them? And she left for a reason. (Part of her wants to come back.) Even if they _ don't _ ask her to stay, she thinks seeing them will make it that much harder to leave again.

But Rex said they've missed her, and so maybe, after this is figured out…

She flies her ship into the cruiser's hangar, tries to pretend she's not nervous about seeing Anakin again -  _ Anakin, _ her _ Master, _ the person most hurt by all this. She's missed him _ so much. _

It looks like half the battalion is casually wandering around the hangar, some of them pretending to stack crates and boxes, most of them not even bothering with that. She smiles to herself as she lands, thinks that's just _ typical, _ finds herself looking around for Anakin and Obi-Wan almost instinctively. She can't see them out of the viewscreen, so she sighs and shuts down the ship, heads to the back, her hand hovering consideringly over the button to lower the ramp.

This will be good. Everyone's missed her, they'll _ understand, _ and this, Rex's discovery, is one of the most important events of the war thus far, she thinks. So.

So she masters her nerves and hits the button, doesn't let herself fidget like she wants to, takes a deep breath.

The ramp goes down, and she can see Rex landing his stolen freighter not far from her, but the more important thing is _ Anakin, _ right there in front of her, staring, and she takes a few cautious steps out of the ship and he's _ running. _

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her into a tight hug, and she only hesitates a second before returning it.  _ Force, _ she's missed him. He feels so _ tense _ and that's worrying, but also- he's _ here, _ her Master, her _ brother _ really, and she leans her head into his chest and smiles a bit.

This will be good.

~~~

Rex leaves his freighter slowly, not wanting to interrupt General Skywalker and Ahsoka, and not wanting to appear anxious about this meet-up, even though he is. But when he looks past his General, his pace quickens, because there are his brothers, Cody and Kix, both of them very serious but waiting for him. So he hurries over to the little group, spares a polite nod for General Kenobi, and quickly hugs Cody, his  _ ori’vod. _ Cody will believe him, if none of the rest of them do.

But they will, because Rex has the evidence on his belt and the drugs are long out of his system so he can explain.

So he steps back from Cody, turns to see Ahsoka and General Skywalker have let go of each other and are talking quietly. His General’s face is painted with relief, concern, excitement, all mixed together, and Rex worries for him.

“Sir,” Rex says, and General Skywalker stops talking and turns to him, worry wiping out everything else on his face, creasing the skin around his eyes into sharp lines. “I’m sorry, we should- talk about this,” and he takes the biochip out of the pouch on his belt, prompting Kix and Cody and General Kenobi to come gather around them as well.

Skywalker nods, seriously, and says, “So what did you find that’s so serious? The news says you tried to  _ kill the Chancellor,  _ Rex - I’m gonna need an explanation for that, too.”

Rex widens his stance, clasps his hands behind his back in loose parade rest, and inclines his head. “Right. I’m sorry the explanation I left wasn’t better, I was having trouble thinking clearly.” Ahsoka steps over to stand next to him, supportive, and that helps. So he lays it all out again, the tumor and surgery and Tup dying and the chip in his own head and deciding to remove it (Kix stops him there to tell him he wants to look at him, check the incision and replace the bandages, and Rex nods) and finding the same strange biochip, not from Jango Fett’s DNA, in all the clone embryos, and the trip back. This time, he does, reluctantly, explain that he thinks one of the Kaminoans drugged him, the way it was so hard to think. He doesn’t want to, he knows that calls into question everything that happened after, but he has to tell the full story.

“The Chancellor said he’d speak to me with just his personal guard,” Rex explains. “So I went with him, started telling him what I’d found. I don’t think he really listened; next thing I knew he told his guards to kill me.”

_ “What?” _ General Skywalker stops him, sharp, and Rex tightens his hands into fists, jaw clenching. “The Chancellor would  _ never  _ do something like that.”

“He did,” Rex says, steady, because he knows that was no hallucination.

“Anakin,” General Kenobi says, mildly, “just because you trust the Chancellor doesn’t mean Rex’s account is impossible. The Council has doubted his sincerity for some time.”

Rex sighs, very quietly, and continues before General Skywalker can object again. “I fought the guards, took them all out and pointed my blasters at the Chancellor. Funny thing, that’s when General Ti came in.” That’s another problem, the witnesses are him, the Chancellor, the Chancellor’s personal guard, and Shaak Ti. None of them are going to paint a  _ shining  _ picture of his actions in that room, so it’s his word against all of theirs. And that chip. “So I had to run for it. Took that ship,” pointing at his freighter, “and went to Commander Tano.” He stops, sighing, and passes the slide with the biochip over to Kix. “We should scan that as soon as possible.”

“I’ll get it done,” Kix says, serious. “Give me about an hour.” He takes the slide from him and strides away, and Rex looks at the Generals and his  _ ori’vod _ for their opinions. Cody gives him a small nod, supportive.

General Skywalker has crossed his arms, and he nods shortly at Ahsoka, asks, “Snips, you said you had an idea about the Sith Lord?” Rex doesn’t think his General  _ wants  _ to believe him; whether he actually does or not, Rex isn’t sure.

Ahsoka nods. “I have a suspicion, but I want to wait for Kix to complete those scans.”

Skywalker swears, but Kenobi nods. “Fair enough. It’s good equipment - I did what I could on that end. If there’s anything to find, he should be able to pick up on it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Rex says.

They leave the hangar to go to Cody’s office, where there’s more privacy and where they can all at least sort of relax. Rex leans against the wall by Cody’s desk, avoiding General Skywalker’s eyes. He  _ knows  _ this is important, he  _ knows  _ he’s right. Tup didn’t just lose control for no reason and the heaviness, the strange nightmares, those are gone, and the Chancellor tried to have him killed. But him knowing isn’t enough by itself.

Ahsoka comes and leans against the wall by him, leaning into his side, and Rex smiles a little at her, although he can’t stop thinking about what will happen if Kix doesn’t find anything.

Kix comes back after an hour and a half, and whatever he found, it wasn’t  _ nothing. _ Rex can tell. His  _ vod  _ walks into the office with a datapad, his expression more tightly controlled than he’s usually capable of. Rex tenses, and Ahsoka touches his arm, reassuring.

“Well?” Skywalker snaps.

Kix shakes his head, staring at the datapad screen. “Well, it’s true it’s an inhibitor chip,” he says, flatly. Rex swallows, but Kix isn’t done. “You can look at these results yourself, you can get someone else to run the scans, but these scans,” he gestures slightly with the datapad, “say that the chip has its own program, basically, and if it’s activated it can suppress any processes that aren’t conducive to its program.” He tosses the datapad onto Cody’s desk, crossing his arms. “I don’t know how it’s activated, so I don’t know how it happened to Tup, but the base programming appears to be centered around killing Jedi, so I want to figure out what activates it and then I want this  _ gods-damned  _ thing  _ out of my head.” _

Rex doesn’t really know what else he expected, but the statement still punches into his chest like he’s been hit by a tank, so there’s no containing the sick mess of fury and terror and horror that rises, choking, to his throat. Cody, for once, doesn’t control his response either; he swears, sharply, his face twisting in a dangerous scowl.

This explains the nightmares, then, and the strange heaviness that Rex thinks they’ve all felt, sometimes, like there’s something they still have to do, waiting. And this explains why both have been absent since he made AZI-3 take the biochip out of his own head.

~~~

_ Kriffing hells. _

Ahsoka had, of course, trusted Rex this whole time, but there was still the chance that he was wrong, that this- that the _ clones _ weren't going to be made into an execution force for their Jedi.

So Kix's news hits _ hard, _ knocks the air from her lungs, and she tightens her hands around her saber hilts until they hurt, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In light of this,” she says, slowly, steadily, over Anakin's tense swearing, “I'm beginning to wonder if- Chancellor Palpatine himself is the Sith Lord.”

Anakin shakes his head _ hard, _ but he looks horrorstruck, like the foundations of his world have been tipped upside down, and he doesn't say anything.

Obi-Wan, however, does. “That is not something we can accuse him of without much investigation,” he says, quietly, grave, “but it is a serious concern. I need to take this information to the Council _ immediately. _ Anakin, you should look into getting these biochips removed from your battalion.”

He's so _ logical _ right now, Ahsoka barely understands it, how he can still _ think _ under the weight of all this.

“You're right, Master,” Anakin says, closing his eyes briefly. “Kix, see what you can find about how the programming on that chip is triggered and get Obi-Wan a copy of those scans.”

_ Hells. _ Ahsoka reaches over and takes Rex's hand, squeezes reassuringly. “Come on,” she says, quietly, “let's go see the men.”

She wants to at least say  _ hi _ before she goes back to her… her everyday life.

“Okay,” he says, gruff, and she tries to smile at him, tugs on his hand and leads him out of the office.

Most of the men are still in the hangar, talking quietly to each other and not-very-subtly watching for her return; when she and Rex come walking in, they go silent, turning to look at her.

“Commander,” Fives says, cautiously, coming over, “it's good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” she says, smiling, lets go of Rex's hand so she can give Fives a hug. “I've missed you guys.”

“You should've commed, sir,” Jesse says, walking over - he looks unsure, is fiddling with his bucket where it's tucked under his arm. “We've- been worried about you.”

“Well, Rex made me promise to comm _ every day,” _ she says lightly, “so I'm sure you all will get more than enough time talking to me in the near future.” She laughs, and so does Fives, and more of her troopers come over, make casual conversation, and it's so- she's _ missed _ them, and she wishes she could stay.

But she can't. So.

“As much as I'd love to stay and keep talking, I really need to get back,” she says, after a while, and while she can tell they aren't _ happy, _ they let her go.

Rex walks with her as she goes over to her ship, and she hesitates for a moment at the ramp before gesturing at him to follow her inside. “A little privacy from Fives will make your life a _ bit _ easier,” she says, casually, wishes he was coming on board with her because he was coming _ home. _

But that's not possible. So she makes herself not think of it.

(She wants him.)

“I appreciate it,” he says, wryly, and she steps closer to him, reaches up and runs her fingers lightly across his cheek.

“It was- good to see you,” she says, very soft, swallowing a bit. She might still see him again, if the Council needs her help with the investigation, but for now - Lothal.

It's hard, suddenly, there's something too tight in her throat, her eyes hot and prickling. There's a thought that just- maybe, she might never see him again, might have to make due with comm calls and mission reports, and somehow it's _ worse _ this time. She wants to hold on so so tight and never let go.

But he's needed. So she can't.

But _ Force. _

~~~

Rex tilts his head into Ahsoka’s hand, a little, exhaling slow, slow so that his breath doesn’t shake. He doesn’t know why he’s so disappointed, when he never really thought she’d stay to begin with. “You too,” he says, quietly, reaching up to cover her hand on his cheek with his own. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she says softly, stepping closer to him. “I’ll always help you when you need it.” There’s a hitch in her voice, but her eyes are all sincerity.

Rex chuckles. “You make big promises,” he says, wryly. “You should be careful about that.” It’s so quiet, right now, he can almost pretend that nothing’s happening, that she’s not leaving.

He wishes he dared to ask her to stay, but he could never do that to her.

“It’s not a big promise,” she retorts. “For you, it’s just-” She stops, shaking her head slightly, and he wonders what she meant. He thinks he understands, anyway.

Sighing quietly, Rex bends to kiss her, then rests his forehead against hers and closes his eyes. He had her for a little while, and that will have to be enough. It’s only because of his own foolishness that it feels like it’s not - he’d let himself imagine this could last, and of course he knew it  _ couldn’t,  _ but still.

Still, he’d wanted.

Ahsoka sighs, just a small sound in the quiet, and says, “I meant it, by the way. If you ever- There’s always a place for you on Lothal.”

“I know,” Rex says, opening his eyes and straightening, and it’s too final of a thing to say, but he can’t even let himself think about the idea too much. It’s a fragile dream and it could break too easily, yet. Still, maybe... “Thank you.”

“Always,” she says, stretching up to kiss him, slow.

When she pulls back again, Rex shakes his head a little, rasping, “What did I tell you about big promises?”

“Still not a promise,” she corrects him, leaning close enough that their noses brush, her eyes bright with quiet laughter. “It’s a  _ fact,  _ you idiot,” she says, soft, like it’s a secret.

Rex chuckles, breathy, shaking his head fondly. “Shut up.”

“Mm, no.” Ahsoka kisses him again, shifting her hand from his cheek to his pauldron. Rex takes her hand in his, though, steps back and squeezes her fingers. She sighs, squaring her shoulders.

“I should go.”

Rex looks down, nodding, and lets go of her hand, pulling his hands back behind his back and trying to find something sensible to say. He can't, really. “Yeah,” he says, and glances over his shoulder, out of the ship. He can't go with her, he knows that.

Just for a second, he considers asking her to stay, telling her that they need her, want her back, that he'll miss her. But this is hard enough already, and he doesn't want to make it worse. She needs to work things out, by herself, and asking her to forget about that would be selfish, whether or not she did stay. So he lets it go, tells himself it'll be alright.

“Remember you said you'd comm,” he says simply, instead, smiling.

_ “That's _ a promise.” She smiles, a little, too casually.

“Good. I'll- we'll keep you updated on all this,” he says, reluctantly turns to walk back out of the ship. Ahsoka follows him to the top of the ramp, and they stop there for a second, although really Rex should just stop putting this off and go.

He salutes, loosely, smirking. “Take care of yourself, sir.”

“I'll do my best,” she answers. Then, turning, she adds, “I love you, Rex. Stay safe.”

It's not until she's walked back into the cockpit of her ship that Rex can force himself to walk down the ramp and away from the ship, and it's not until he gets nearly to the hangar doors that he looks back, his chest so tight.

_ I love you, too. _


End file.
